Need You Now
by Fiera Sabre
Summary: GarrusxShepard--comprised of utter fluff, utter crack, and a dose of angst but it has a happy ending ! Shepard and Garrus are having similar thoughts prior to their meeting on Omega...


It was after Shepard's talk with the Illusive Man, following her mission on Freedom's Progress. Seeing Tali, then hearing straight from the Illusive Man himself that she couldn't get her team back...that had hurt. The emotional loss of her team was still fresh—she'd been conscious less than a week, and here she was being sent off to assemble a new team. The Archangel sounded promising, at least. A vigilante, just like Garrus had wanted to be...

Garrus. Just the thought of him made her heart ache and twist painfully. He'd been her closest friend on the Normandy, a constant presence at her side on missions—he'd been there when she'd killed Saren, in the end. And in the real end, for her, when she'd entered the frigid abyss of space, he'd been in an escape pod, safely on his way somewhere. But he thought she was dead now, and she didn't know if he was dead or alive. All she had left to cling to were her memories, and it didn't feel like enough.

Shepard remembered a secret stash she'd hid on one of the many worlds they'd visited—it had been after the defeat of Sovereign and Saren, and the whole crew had gone out on shore leave on a paradisiacal planet, taking the day to relax and enjoy the tourist-type attractions. She and her team members had all gone and taken pictures together, even asking another tourist to take a picture of them all together at one point. They'd felt silly, and embraced it, living the day on a giddy high of enjoyment. There had been a lot of pictures of her and Garrus, she remembered, though she'd only saved the best ones.

She'd hid those pictures, and one short video, in a small safe in the ruins of Eden Prime. It was where this had all begun, after all—it seemed fitting.

"Joker?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"You have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice respond, and not just some pilot...um, anyways, would you be so kind as to set course for Eden Prime?"

"Eden Prime...? Er, yes Commander. If you don't mind me asking though, why?"

"Just a personal stop, Joker. We'll be on our way to Omega directly after this."

"Yes Ma'am. Joker out."

Upon their arrival on Eden Prime, Shepard donned her armor and weapons as she always did, and was just about to leave when a voice stopped her. An instant wave of annoyance washed over her, upon recognizing the speaker.

"Shepard!"

"...Yes, Miranda?" Shepard turned around, her expression tight, though Miranda couldn't see it.

"Shepard, why the hell are we on _Eden Prime_? The Illusive Man gave us orders to head to Omega!" Miranda glared at Shepard's helmeted visage, perhaps hoping to intimidate the woman into leaving immediately. No such luck.

"I'm just here on a personal stop, Miranda. Nothing for you to concern yourself with. There's nothing out here, and I'll be back shortly. Then we'll be on our way to Omega—satisfied?" She sighed, hoping Miranda would drop it and let her be on her way.

"Fine. But you can't spend your time wallowing in the past, Shepard, you have to get over the fact that you can't have your former crew with you. No matter how much they meant to you, you'll just have to suck it up and move on." With a final glare, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked off, presumably to go sit around being perfect.

Shepard really hoped Miranda would show one or two redeeming points in the future. Shaking her head, she disembarked the _Normandy_ and headed straight for the discreet wall safe on the far end of the compound, near where they'd found the Prothean beacon. On arrival, she noted that it had remained undisturbed, and a profound sense of relief washed over her. She deftly punched in the code and the safe slid open with a slight hiss, revealing the datapad and mini holo-projector.

Smiling, she thumbed the projector on, and it flickered a moment before presenting a vivid color holo of herself and the rest of her teammates, posing in front of a rather scenic looking waterfall in the bright sun, as green vegetation encroached on the edges of the frame. Her breath caught painfully at the sudden rush of emotion from the memories, and she turned it off, fighting back hot tears. She hastily, but carefully, placed both items in her small pack, and trudged back to the _Normandy._

_Later, en route to Omega..._

Shepard sat cross-legged on the floor of her quarters, leaning her back against the foot of the bed. Gingerly holding the mini-projector roughly at eye level, she switched it on once more, and managed a smile at the first photo. There they all were, surrounding her, arms around each other, every inch the team she remembered. Garrus was to her right in the picture, his arm around her waist and his hand resting on her hip. She hadn't noticed at the time. His expression always made her smile, though, the way his mandibles relaxed and flared out a little, his eyes crinkled, and his jaw lifted slightly—the Turian equivalent of beaming, the way she had been at the camera.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the hot sun beating down on her, the hot press of bodies behind her, all leaning in close for the picture...the feel of Garrus' hand, resting almost possessively on her hip then, the feel of his arm supporting her back and how...nice it had been, pulled tightly to his side. Then she opened her eyes and the illusion was gone, replaced by painful reality. She didn't know if she would ever see him again, in person. Or hear his voice. Garrus' voice could make her feel better any time of day or night. It was just so...comforting, and warm. She could listen to his voice for as long as he wanted to talk—and he knew it. She'd confessed this to him, one night, when the pressures of saving the universe had seemed a bit much. He'd asked her why she wanted to see him in the middle of the night, and she'd been too distracted to think up a good excuse so it just popped out.

"_I like hearing you talk. Your voice is comforting." She'd blurted out, then blushed and paused, wondering what had prompted her to say such a thing. Fortunately, he'd taken it in stride and they curled up in two chairs he'd had in a corner, and he'd just started talking, about anything and everything. He'd covered things from mechanics, to how he'd custom modified his sniper rifle, to his favorite colors, and fond childhood memories. Eventually she'd relaxed and fallen asleep, and he had graciously carried her back to her quarters and tucked her into bed. _

Remembering the video from the vacation, she shook herself from the memory and picked up the datapad, then selected the video to view. It was random, certainly, just a small snatch of their activities that day. She couldn't remember who had filmed it, though.

_The hot sun reflected almost blindingly off the white sand of the beach, contrasting prettily with the aqua blue ocean and the rugged grey-brown cliffs at the far end of the beach. Several crew from the Normandy thundered past suddenly, shouting gleefully as they dove into the warm, gentle waves lapping the sand. This was quickly followed by the appearance of Shepard, in a bikini, tearing madly across the sand with the rest of her team in hot pursuit, a mad grin stretched over her face. With a short "Whoop!" she dove into the water, stroking powerfully to avoid being run over by the others as they to jumped in._

_They all spread out after a few moments, laughing and splashing water at each other. Suddenly, an impromptu splash war broke out, and they divided into two teams, with Shepard, Ashley and another crew member on one team and Garrus, Wrex, and the nav officer on the other. Mostly it was blind splashing, and while Wrex and the nav officer kept the other team distracted, Garrus silently swam around to Shepard, stealthily looming behind her, then abruptly sweeping her up bridal-style. _

"_Hey! Hey, not fair!" A laughing Shepard protested, struggling half-heartedly against the Turian's grasp. _

_The chuckling Turian's reply was just audible, as he dipped his head towards her and gave what could only be described as a very intense look. _

"_All's fair in love and war, Shepard..."_

"_I...I..." Shepard sputtered, clearly not able to think of a response as they gazed into each other's eyes. _

"_...And THIS is WAR!" He practically yelled, suddenly heaving Shepard through the air, towards slightly deeper water. _

_Shepard gave an undignified screech and flailed for a few moments before hitting the water. _

_The camera view wavered and wobbled, and by the sound, the camera person, Tali, was laughing hysterically. The screen went dark. _

Ah. Tali had filmed it. That made sense—she couldn't exactly slip out of her environment suit to go jump in the water. She was able to smile fondly at this memory. She remembered that look he'd given her then, like she was the only one there and her very soul had been laid out before him. Was it possible...? Probably not, she thought sadly. She realized now that what she felt for Garrus was much more than friendship, but it hadn't ever seemed likely that he felt something for her in return. But that gaze...She couldn't believe she'd forgotten it, but everything that day had been so in-the-moment. It had been exhilarating, to consider all the possibilities for that split second, all the implications. Now?...She had to move on. They were almost at Omega, and she wanted to check out this Archangel fellow.

Garrus was hunched over a dirty bar, teetering on a rickety bar stool as he cradled his drink. There was a thick sort of fog creeping about the room, and the volume of its inhabitants rose and fell in the natural sway of drunken conversation. One could barely hear the news feed playing at the end of the bar, but Garrus was just close enough to catch every word. The finished the galactic sports news, and a new reporter took over.

"Thanks, Ka'tel. Today is a solemn day, when many affected by the Geth's assault on the Citadel come together to mourn those lost two years ago this day..."

He already knew this, but he'd been trying to forget—hence the drinking. He quickly downed what passed for the amino-dextro version of whiskey and motioned for another. He needed that reporter to shut up.

"Everyone remembers the hero of that day, Commander Shepard of the human Alliance. Many call her the savior of the galaxy. But her life was ended in a tragic assault on her vessel, the _SR1 Normandy_, when she sacrificed her own life to save those of her crew, just two months after her victory against the Geth. Those who were reputedly her best friends—Alliance officer Ashley Williams and former C-Sec agent Garrus Vakarian—are still nowhere to be found..."

With another grimace, he hunched even lower and knocked back his whole drink. The drink was finally starting to get to his head—everything was looking a little fuzzy, and that was dangerous. He tossed his cred chips on the counter a bit more sloppily than necessary, then stumbled off to his secluded but well-fortified apartment.

Garrus shut and secured his door behind him, then shuffled over to his chair, sprawling himself on it in a haphazard fashion. It was too soft. With a grunt of dissatisfaction, he heaved himself up and took a few paces up to the wall, then sat himself on the hard floor, leaning against the wall for support. The chill did something clear his head, at least. His eyes drifted to the door, heart twisting painfully as he remembered how sometimes he would notice that the freight elevator light on the _Normandy_ would be lit up, and he would know that it was quite probably Shepard. Improbably, he wished that his door would do the same thing, and Shepard might walk through it quite suddenly, making everything right just by being there.

He remembered one night when he'd been up late, working on some delicate modifications for his rifle, when his door had suddenly chimed and slid open, revealing a weary Shepard, clearly suffering from lack of sleep.

"_Shepard?" He asked, half wishing he had eyebrows then just so he could raise one at her._

"_Garrus." She replied, her voice a little husky—from emotion? "I...I couldn't sleep. Looks like you couldn't either." She managed a little smile, though really it was more a slight quirk of her lips._

"_Mmm," he hummed in acknowledgement, "You look like you might want to talk. Anything in particular troubling you?"_

"_Ah, Garrus," there- an actual smile, as she ducked her head, "Always straight to the point. I guess it's just the pressure of knowing I'm the one who has to save whole damn galaxy, or we're all doomed, that's keeping me awake."_

"_Yes," he nodded as sagely as possible, "I can see how that would. But hey, no pressure, right?" He chuckled, hoping to relieve some of her tension._

"_I like hearing you talk, Your voice is comforting." She said suddenly, then blushed a fetching shade of scarlet and looked at her bare toes. It was only then that Garrus realized she was actually wearing...what did humans call them, pajamas? Yes. She was wearing pajamas, and had a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. She unconsciously snugged it a little tighter, shivering slightly._

"_Well, if it's my voice you crave, it's my voice you shall get. C'mere, sit down and make yourself comfortable." Feeling inordinately pleased at her confession—she liked his voice!—he gestured to the cushioned armchair in the corner, and pulled up his desk chair for himself. Obediently, she shuffled over and promptly curled up in the chair, looking rather like a large, misshapen pillow with a head attached. Garrus launched into what was to be the longest one-sided conversation he'd ever held. Eventually, she'd drifted off to sleep._

_He gently scooped her up in his arms, careful to disturb her as little as possible, and quietly made the short walk from his quarters up to hers, softly sliding her under her bed sheets and replacing the thick blanket on top. Feeling a warm wave of sentimentality, his hand drifted to her hair, gently smoothing it and tucking a few stray strands behind her ears. This evolved to very gently tracing her lovely features, wanting to memorize how the soft skin of her cheeks and lips felt under his fingers. She mumbled in her sleep and brought a hand up to her face, but instead of trying to brush his hand away, she felt it with her own, then grasped it gently, holding it close to her upper chest, near her collar bone._

_He stayed in that slightly stooped position for the next half hour, before she finally relinquished his hand. _

Garrus was jerked out of the memory when he heard shouting down the corridor from his apartment—a somewhat uncommon occurrence, despite the fact that this was Omega. With a groan, he pushed himself upright and made his way to his bed with heavy, slow steps. He missed her. He missed her every damn day, even if he wouldn't admit it. Not only had he been more than happy to be there for her, she'd been there for him too, always. She would listen patiently to him ranting about C-Sec regulations, or a criminal that got away. She always made time for him, always came down to hang out with him in her spare time.

He would have followed her to the edge of the known universe—and beyond—had she asked. He'd trusted her implicitly, with his past, his future, and now, he was beginning to realize, perhaps more. Sprawling limply across his bed, he fell into blissful darkness, not knowing what would come in the near future, but wishing there was a way for Shepard to be a part of it.

It seemed like scant days after Garrus' drunken night of remembrance that the Blue Suns and Blood Pack joined together once more in their final attempt to defeat the famed (or perhaps infamous) Archangel. Partway through another wave of mercenary fodder, Garrus saw her: Shepard. He took his shot at another mercenary, the ducked behind cover, heart thudding in his ears. How was this possible? It seemed too good to be true—it could be a clone, or anything else, but he didn't dare risk shooting her just in case it really WAS her.

Hearing a break in enemy fire, he looked out over the bridge again and was just lining up a shot when he heard her voice.

"Archangel?"

Oh, gods above, if it wasn't her he would surely die today—just hearing her voice again made him incapable of speech, so he motioned with his hand for her to wait, and busied himself with taking his target down. That accomplished, he turned and stood, taking that short moment to look her over—she certainly looked like Shepard, and her voice was Shepard's, and even her slightly intrigued but guarded expression was Shepard's. It had to be her, he decided. He settled himself on a nearby crate, thankful for the helmet that obscured his expression, then took a breath. If she recognized him, then that would be his proof. He slipped his helmet off and watched her reaction cautiously.

"Garrus?!" Came her exultant response, a smile quickly spreading across her face. She hesitated for a split second, contemplating how her actions might appear to her two new team members, then decided it didn't matter. She was across the room in a flash, her arms wrapping snugly behind his neck, her body pressed flush against his. Sensing that their center of gravity had altered with the force of her impact (and feeling that Garrus was trying to keep from falling over backwards) Shepard brought up her right knee to brace on the top edge of the crate, so it appeared that she was essentially straddling Garrus.

Though somewhat surprised at the nature of her reaction, Garrus rapidly returned the gesture with equal affection, holding her tightly to him. She had her face buried in his neck, so he returned the favor, pulling in the scent of her skin, her hair—all the little things he'd missed. His eyes closed as he lost himself in her presence. They remained in that position for a long moment until someone else—must've been one of her new teammates—gave a soft "cough" that was obviously meant to get their attention. Reluctantly, Garrus released her, steadying her arm as she stood.

"Eh, heh. So, what are you doing here? You're Archangel?" Shepard was blushing, and couldn't keep a smile off her lips for more than a second at a time.

Miranda and Jacob glanced at each other, both with a raised eyebrow, clearly asking "She knows him? Weird." They turned their attention back to the commander and the Archangel—Garrus, apparently—with a slight roll of the eyes, as if to say, "Yeah, we should probably get used to this kind of thing."


End file.
